Bad Best Friend
by howzitthen
Summary: Following the events of the S5 Finale, Jess takes a little time to figure things out.


**Picks up right after the S5 Finale.**

Jess slipped into her room, shut the door behind her, and let her weight fall back against its flat surface. It had been a long night. Mostly happy, but long just the same. After seeing Schmidt and Cece to their limo, she was ready for sleep. She took a deep breath, held, and released. As the air left her lungs, she became aware of the constricting fabric of her bridesmaid dress.

She stepped into her room and began to undress. Picking out the right pair of airy PJs didn't occupy her mind for long, but it did offer some small reprieve. She turned into her closet and pulled out a set of sky blue PJs, complete with white fluffy clouds. As she stepped into the soft fabric, she heard a bright giggle come from across the hall.

Reagan.

Jess steadied herself and finished changing. She kicked her dress into the corner of the room and sat down on her bed facing the door. She stretched her neck and slowed her breathing.

"Well, you've really gone and done it now" she muttered. Stupid Nick Miller. Nick Miller and his cool, impossibly foxy, spontaneous, and no nonsense new girlfriend.

But.. she and Nick had been done for years. This had to be coming from somewhere, right? She had just ended things with Sam a few hours ago. She closed her eyes and fell back on her bed. She finally let her mind focus on the problem in hopes that the situation wasn't as dire as she feared.

She had been dumped by her handsome, doctor boyfriend on the eve of her best friend's wedding. Dumped and left with one hell of an "oh, by the way". Just because she didn't want to marry Sam didn't mean she didn't love him. And that was it, wasn't it? She had lost her boyfriend suddenly, witnessed Cece and Schmidt get married, watched Winston positively ooze adoration for Aly, and noted the unmistakably smitten way Coach looked at Mae. And to top it off, Reagan showed up like Prince friggin Charming in reverse and swept Nick off to New Orleans. Even Schmidt's mom was getting engaged. It was a lot for a girl to process. All that romance in one loft, and none of it for Jess.

That's it! It was just the situation. It was no wonder some long dormant feelings got a little stirred up. She was seemingly caught in the middle of a half dozen simultaneously occurring romantic comedies, and without a role to play. She just felt a bit down… that was all.

Jess sat up and breathed easier. Disaster averted. All she needed was a good night sleep, and she'd wake up refreshed and…

She was startled out of her thoughts by a knock on her door. She sat silent a moment as she considered feigning sleep. After a moment, the knock repeated, this time followed by a voice.

"Jess," Nick whispered from the other side. "Jess, are you up?"

"No," Jess whispered back instinctively. She rolled her eyes at her error and got up. She moved to the door and cracked it open.

On the other side stood Nick and Reagan, suitcases in hand. Jess blinked up, confused.

"Hey Jess, we're actually going to take off," Nick said, smiling. "Flight's at 7, so we need to get to LAX by like 4 for all the TSA crap."

"Oh," Jess said, feeling her face fall.

"So... I just wanted to say goodbye," Nick said, pushing the door open. "Goodbye and… and thank you."

Jess stifled her internal scream as Nick stepped forward. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in. He held her tight until Jess' own arms found their way around him. She pressed her fingers into his back, sunk her face into his shoulder, and exhaled. In the hallway Jess sensed Reagan sneak away, apparently deciding the moment deserved some privacy.

Nick squeezed tightly once more and released her. He stepped back, simultaneously taking her hands in his. He smiled at her, eyes glistening. Jess felt the briefest pang of confusion before Nick lifted her right hand to his face, derailing her train of thought. He kissed the back of her hand, and turned to leave.

Jess watched him go. He strode into the hall without looking back, turned, and disappeared. She stood a moment staring through the empty doorway, and beyond it, into Nick's empty room.

"Oh… crap," Jess muttered, suddenly feeling light headed.

After a beat she dropped her head and blindly pushed the door only to feel resistance. She looked up and found herself staring right into Reagan's pointed blue eyes.

"Reagan? What…" Jess started.

"You know, I'm not really one for over sentimentality. Or… kind words in general, but…"

Jess looked on in shock as Reagan fidgeted, plainly struggling with what she was trying to say.

Reagan nodded abruptly and composed herself.

"I don't have a lot of friends. Which is fine because most people suck. But I really do think you're cool, Jess. You seemed a bit weird at first, what with all the ribbons and singing. But now I can see that you're actually… kind of a bad ass."

Jess blinked the surprise out of her eyes as Reagan offered her a bright, genuine smile.

"Anyway, thanks for this, Jess. Thanks for the push. And if everything goes as well as I'm hoping, I look forward to getting to know you better because… well.. I like you, Jess."

In a 24 hour period filled with surprises, this one took the cake. Jess literally gasped in surprise, causing Reagan to giggle.

"Just don't let it go to your head," Reagan said, still smiling. "Thanks again Jess. I'll see you soon."

Jess found herself smiling as she closed the door behind Reagan. She sighed, and again pressed her back against the flat surface of the door. Her smile faded as her situation clarified itself in her mind as her face scrunched with anxiety.

"Double crap."

She stepped towards her bed, falling again, this time face first into her mattress. Reagan liked her. Wanted to be her friend. Yet another wrinkle she did not see coming. What a difference a day made.

Jess rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling. Her mind again turned to distraction. She was going to need to find something a little more long term.

School was out, and she usually went home for a couple of weeks each summer. She could schedule that trip a little earlier than usual if she wanted. Or maybe she could get cracking on that rooftop garden she'd often thought about. What was in season this time of year anyway?

Jess tried her best to chase the thoughts of Nick and Reagan from her mind. To hold them at bay until morning. And she did find some success. Thoughts of the garden turned to thoughts of re-staining the furniture on the roof which turned into the beginnings of a Home Depot shopping list.

Alas, just before she drifted off, her mind betrayed her. As she turned to her side, her arm reached out to the empty side of her bed. Logic should've had her reaching for Sam, whom she would've expected to be there a mere 24 hours before. But, of course, that's not the man she found herself reaching for. And that realization was what she carried off into her dreams.

Jess woke to an empty loft. She had slept until the late morning hours, missing the chance to see Schmidt's mother off. Winston had apparently still not returned from Aly's, and Cece and Schmidt were off on their honeymoon for the next 3 weeks. And, of course, Nick was gone.

As she stood in the kitchen waiting for her bagel to toast, she was struck by how quiet the loft was. Just her, all alone. Well… mostly. Somewhere in the loft, Furguson was sleeping or eating or bathing, but he was no company for Jess. Over the years, it had become clear he was Winston's cat, and only Winston's cat. He wasn't mean or anything, just flippant and indifferent to Jess' affection. He would typically allow her a few quick strokes down his soft back before he would side step her, settling down in a spot just outside the radius of her reach.

"Just out of reach", Jess thought as the toaster popped. "Story of my life".

Jess plated her bagel and trudged back to her room. She paused outside of Nick's room and peaked inside, noticing how much cleaner it was than normal. Clean for Reagan. She forced herself into her room but not before she caught a whiff of Nick's signature Old Spice. He had clearly overdone it a bit. Again, no doubt an effort to his newest blue eyed, raven haired girlfriend.

Losing her appetite, Jess set the plate on her vanity and took a seat. She took a deep breath and calmed herself. This wasn't going to be easy. Walking past that room everyday. Smelling his scent even as it slowly faded over time. Even if she could find ways to busy herself outside the loft, she would always end up back here. Alone, and outside Nick's door every single night before she went to bed.

She needed a distraction. Something more than a rooftop garden could provide. She could date, of course. She would have her fair share of suitors should she put herself back out there. But she was dated out. Her honest attempts with Ryan and Sam had failed, and she was in no state to try again right now, or any time soon. As it was, she was already in danger of becoming one of those women who couldn't function outside of a relationship. And she was NOT going to be that woman.

Besides, she needed to figure some things out. Nick, for starts, but she was sure that wasn't all. She needed some time alone.

She turned to her vanity mirror and looked into her own eyes. She noted that they were very pale today. A far cry from the brilliant blue they were just hours before. This wasn't right. Being here... alone… like this. It wasn't going to do her any good. She needed to get away. She needed to regroup. She needed to not come home to a place with so much history. History that would only get harder to hide from the more she tried.

Suddenly, Jess remembered something her old friend Rose had mentioned a few weeks back. An opportunity for a summer teaching position. Something she had been too wrapped up in Sam to take any serious note of. She was on her feet in a flash, phone in hand. She found Rose's name and excitedly dialed her up.

"Hey Rose," she started, pacing the floor. "You remember that thing you were telling me about a few weeks back? About teaching English in France?"

Jess turned back towards her mirror in time to watch her own face fall.

"Oh," she said. "Taken huh? Okay, well...my summer just opened up so thought I'd give it a shot. It's fine, I'll just…. other openings? I mean, I took French for 6 years, so that would have been nice, but… where else were you thinking?"

Cece reclined back in her bamboo woven beach chair and dug her toes into the warm, white sand. She turned her head to her right and looked at her husband, laid back in his own chair, black wayfarers shielding his eyes from the sun.

"Looking a little pink there, babe," Cece said.

"I thought we just applied some lotion," Schmidt answered, his eyes glancing down at his rapidly pinkening chest. "How long has it been?"

"I dunno," Cece answered, not looking up. "30 minutes? An hour?"

"Eh, I should probably reapply. Not all of us were blessed with your glorious brown skin. Some of us have to work at it."

"What? I have to work at it."

"Please," Schmidt said as he reached under his chair to grab the bottle of sunscreen. "You got a shade darker on the cab ride from the airport to the hotel. I've been out here all day and I'm the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man's Jewish little brother."

"You're not that bad," Cece answered.

"It's a curse," Schmidt said, rubbing some of the white liquid into his shoulder. "Hey, can you set an alarm on your phone for 20 minutes? I'm going to positively blister if I don't keep on schedule."

"If you say so," Cece said, reaching over to the small table adjacent to her chair. She picked up the phone and started pecking at the screen. "Oh hey, I missed a text from Jess."

"What's she up to?" Schmidt asked dropping the bottle of sunscreen to the sand below.

"She says hi, she hopes we're having fun…" Cece trailed off.

"That's nice," Schmidt said reclining back in his chair. "Tell her thanks."

"I can't," Cece said solemnly.

"What's that?"

"I can't tell her that. I can't tell her anything. She's going to be without service for a little while."

"No service? What is she Nick? Forget to pay her bill?"

"Not exactly," Cece answered quietly. "She's going abroad to teach children how to speak English."

"Abroad, huh? Seems kind of sudden. Where's she going?"

"She's going to… Suriname?"

"Suriname!?"

"She can't go to Suriname," came a voice from Cece's left. She rolled her eyes and turned to face Winston reclining on his own chair beside her. In his hand he held a large, blue beverage overflowing with multiple bright, tiny umbrellas. He held the straw carefully between his thumb and forefinger as he looked at Cece with dead seriousness.

"Who's going to feed Furguson?"


End file.
